If you read the post yesterday explaining what String Theory is, well, sorry about that. I try to keep this blog 100% learning-free, but sometimes I lose my mind and skimp on the dick jokes. Again, sorry. But if you did read that post and stayed conscious long enough, you may have seen a picture of a Japanese boy-band named Big Bang. After finding that pic, I went on a tangent and spent a bunch of time perusing YouTube in search of nutty Japanese music videos. If you are at all familiar with Japanese culture, it goes without saying that I found more than enough insanity to keep me occupied for a lifetime. Continue reading

Ok, we’re gonna cut to the chase today because the Weekly Hypothetical is a little more challenging this week. A friend of mine, who wishes to remain nameless (although his name is Rich Taylor, and he lives at 2649 Crescent Way, Gilbert, AZ), challenged me to explain String Theory so that it’s entertaining and comprehensible. (Actually, his challenge was worded more like, “You asshole! You’d better replace all of that booze!” but I know what he really meant.) So without further ado… Continue reading

The summer of 1974, when I was five, my parents had just finished putting the final touches on their dream house. They had hired an architect to design their house to their specifications, paid an urban planner to suggest where to build so that the family would get the most out of both suburban and rural life while maximizing the value of the house when it was time to retire, and basically sweated over the millions of details involved in making one’s dreams come true. And it was because of this that it took me almost thirty years to tell my mom the truth behind “The Sprinkler Story”. Continue reading

My wife and I recently received a note from our son’s kindergarten teacher stating that after a careful review of his journal, he was being sent to the principal’s office for what I can only assume was a crash course on Nobel Prize acceptance speech etiquette. I mean, I was kind of in a hurry and didn’t take too much time to read the email because mostly those emails are of the “your son spent all of today’s ‘carpet time’ trying to make the other students laugh” variety. And beside being puzzled as to where he’d get that kind of behavior from, that shit gets repetitive and old really quick, so I admit I kind of skimmed the contents. Continue reading

I love this video because it demonstrates a core, basic rule about guys: Guys are pyros. I’ve tried to explain to my wife how our sons, five and three, will grow up fanning the flames of a smoldering mattress, detonating a bottle full of lighter fluid with a roman candle, or (as I once did when I was fifteen) pouring three liters of gas down a sewer and blowing a manhole cover through an inch of cement, 40 feet into the air. (No shit. It shook dishes off of the shelves of the nearest house. Its awesomeness was in direct proportion to the speed with which I fled the area.) My wife says, “Well, we’ll have to keep an eye on them.” Wrong. It’s going to happen. What’s scary is I may be there with them, since I don’t believe I’ve fully outgrown my fascination with fire, as anyone who has asked me to light the grill can attest. Continue reading

I realized after posting my extreme rant on the elderly yesterday that I had omitted another thing that pissed me off when I was hiking: Ultra-Lesbian Hate-Hikers. Look, I don’t care what anyone’s sexual preference is. It’s none of my business who sticks what into where, or who rubs this, or who licks that. And for the record, I think gay people deserve the right to be as happy as the rest of us, and that includes serving in the military and getting married if that’s what floats their boat. I don’t know what kind of barely viable relationships the politicians behind the Defense of Marriage Act have, but my marriage is not threatened by two dudes giving each other reach-arounds in private. Fuck it, who cares? Continue reading

I’m going to start off by saying that I do not hate old people. I really don’t. I myself want to be an old person one day, within limits. I mean, you see some of these seniors on TV who are 107 and they’re not the happy kind of “Is Harry Truman still the President?” out of it, they’re more like the “Mr. McGillicutty shit in his shoes again” kind of out of it. Fuck that. But barring some radical dementia that makes me want to try to barbecue my nuts or anything crazy like that, I do want to live long enough to be fairly old. Continue reading

There comes a time in almost everyone’s life when they really don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone else thinks about them or their actions, and that time is usually when people are in their early 20’s. There’s enough of a newfound sense of independence that these young adults scorn their parents (at least until they need bail money). Their lack of experience means that coworkers and supervisors are a favored target, of course, with the next shitty job just days away should one happened to be fired. And any friends worth having accept their friends for who they are, even if they did happen to drunkenly piss on the dishes in the sink last weekend. Continue reading

And now, part two of Dogs on Drugs’ landmark series of videos involving defective goats. (Have fun, Heather.)